No Regrets
by sophiesophiesophiee
Summary: One-shot. Charles and Elsie have a conversation about regrets.


**Just a quick one-shot from me. It's fluff and it's not my usual territory so I apologise for this.**

**DISCLAIMER: Not mine, unfortunately. Everything belongs to Julian Fellowes. Kudos to him.**

* * *

"Do you ever wish you'd gone another way? Worked in a shop or a factory? Had a wife, children…?" Charles Carson could not believe his ears. Elsie Hughes, Downton's housekeeper, was standing before him, biting her lip, doubting her position in the household.

"What's brought this on, Mrs Hughes?" He probed gently, extending his hand and gesturing to the chair opposite his desk. She closed the door to his pantry firmly behind her and sat down, unable to meet his gaze. "Mrs Hughes?" She looked up upon hearing her name and he could see that, for the first time in the twenty years he had known her, she had tears in her eyes.

"I'm just being silly, I suppose." She sighed, continuing to chew on her lip. "I often wonder how things would have gone if I hadn't gone into service. Been married, had a family." She looked at him. "Do you regret not allowing yourself to have that, Mr Carson?" She sounded unsure of herself and, for a brief moment, Charles wanted nothing more than to draw her to his chest and make her forget her train of thought.

"I don't know. I suppose I've learned to block those thoughts out. Is there any way I can help? Anything I can do?" Charles watched Elsie shake her head. "I do hope we're not about to lose you, Mrs Hughes?" He offered a weak laugh, giving himself the opportunity to pretend it was a joke should she say no.

"I don't know, Charles." She murmured, her voice soft and wavering with emotion. "I think I've lost any chance of having that happiness now. I can't have children. I don't have a husband or anyone willing to be my husband. But staying here…" she paused, "I don't have the chance of finding one, either. Unless you're offering?" She gave a laugh, similar to the laugh Charles had offered previously. The blush which rose on Charles' cheeks caused Elsie to raise an eyebrow and she tilted her head as Charles began to speak.

"What would you say if I were to say yes?" He probed, holding her gaze. "I'll not lie to you, Mrs Hughes. I've often thought how different things would be if I were to…_proposition_ you." Elsie was suddenly standing in front of him, the little colour that had been in her cheeks having disappeared.

"I must be getting on, look at the time. We'll discuss this later."

And with that, she was gone.

* * *

"Might I have a word, Mrs Hughes?" It was three days later and it appeared to Charles that Elsie had been avoiding him. "Our conversation the other day, I don't think we reached a conclusion."

Elsie had thought of nothing since. She had barely slept for thinking of how different her life would be if she allowed Charles into it on a more personal level. Perhaps she could finally be happy? Perhaps they'd have to leave Downton? Perhaps they could just retire together?

"I have time this evening. Come to my sitting room, I think this matter is best discussed there, in private."

Elsie noted that Charles was not himself at all through dinner. He had become pale, there were beads of sweat forming on his brow and at one point, his hands were shaking. Once the meal was over and the rest of the staff had returned to their duties, Elsie turned to him, concern etched over her face.

"Charles, you're not well, are you?" She placed the back of her hand against his forehead as he shrugged. "You ought to go to bed, you're no use to anyone down here. Go on, go up. I'll send for Dr Clarkson." Charles nodded and struggled to his feet, aided by the housekeeper at his elbow. "I'll be up soon. Rest."

Elsie paced the servants' hall as she waited for Dr Clarkson to reappear. She had been consumed with worry since Charles had been taken ill at dinner and she couldn't help but think that she should be up there, by his side, holding his hand and looking after him like any dutiful wife should.

Hold on. _Wife?_ Perhaps her decision had been made for her, subconsciously.

When Dr Clarkson reappeared and reassured her that Charles would be fine after a few days' rest, Elsie's relief was visible to all. She made a pot of tea and took it up to Charles' room on a tray, entering his room after a gentle knock on the door.

"I brought you up some tea, I thought you might like a cup." She smiled warmly at Charles and placed the tray down on his bedside table, closing his door with a nudge of her arm.

"Thank you, Mrs Hughes. That's very kind." He sat up slowly, a tired, lopsided smile on his face and hair sprouting in all directions. "Are the rest of the staff in bed?" At her nod, he continued. "And how tired are you? Really?" She was biting her lip again and he was beginning to worry that her was adding to her problems.

"Me? I'm fine. I've just been thinking." She looked at him for a moment. "What you said the other night…did you mean it? Would you marry me?" Elsie saw Charles' eyes light up and she knew that she had made the right decision.

"Of course. Elsie, my dear, I have loved you for as long as I can remember. I am sick of having to hide my feelings, pretend I don't care. I want to be able to compliment you on your new coats. I want to spend my time off with you. I want to, if you'd allow, retire with you." For the second time, Charles could see tears forming in Elsie's eyes.

"I would like that. Very much." She sniffed and composed herself.

"Do you still regret giving your life to Downton?" Charles asked, taking her hand with his own.

"No," came the response, "no regrets."


End file.
